


The One Shots of Dun Broch

by WerepuppyBlack



Category: Brave (2012), Disney - All Media Types, Disney Princesses, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7370476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerepuppyBlack/pseuds/WerepuppyBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a collection of my fics set in and around the Dun Broch area. Often with Merintosh because ship of preference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merida had recently returned from the Other Land. Macintosh goes to see his Queen.

If one thing could be said about Lord Cothric Macintosh it was that, barring that one time, he was the most loyal of clansmen to Queen Merida of Dun Broch. Devoted would be a good word to describe it, for his gaze never wavered, nor did his sword in her service. It would be forgiven for people to think that he was desperate to prove something, though no one knew what exactly. It was true that his Father had been a great man, one of the best leaders the clan had, but the new Lord was just as good, if not better. And yet still he was desperate to prove something. Who knew what? All his clan knew that he was desperate to prove something to the Queen, to show her his loyalty. As if that could ever be in question.

The Queen was in her private chambers when Macintosh came visiting. She had recently returned from the Other Land, on a crusade against Arthur of Camelot who had cowardly slain King Fergus for a helm that the King did not use. (While Merida was pleased at that news, she did have to explain to the clans why her Father had sought the Witch's magic in the first place. To ensure the Kingdom's future was a reason that everyone understood.) It had been months since anyone had seen her, and while a feast was sure to be held to celebrate her homecoming, for today she had requested peace and quiet. She was tired, it was explained, and needed time to reflect on the battle she had been through. Of course, she had allowed for a few visitors, and received them at her own pace. Which is why Macintosh went into her private chambers. He wasn't an idiot, after all.

“My Queen,” he bowed on seeing her, “I was... happy ta hear of your safe return, an' victory over Arthur,” he said, not looking up until he had the important words out. “All of Clan Macintosh will celebrate your return,” he finished, finally looking up. Merida was relaxing at the window seat, looking as healthy as Macintosh could have hoped it, if not more drained than he would have expected. He stood slowly, making his way over cautiously. He didn't know what his Queen had experienced in the Other Realm, and didn't want to provoke an attack – she was fiercer than her Father had been. “Merida? Are you alright?”

“Aye, I'm fine,” she replied. “An' thank you. For the kind words. Wee an' Guff have said similar things ta me on their visits an' all,” there was a touch of teasing in her tone, and she gestured for Macintosh to sit, something he did. “They also telt me that you were a right pest while I was gone, an' there was serious debate on lettin' Wee knock you out to shut you up fer half an hour?” Colour rose to his cheeks.

“Well, you were gone an' nobody was doin' anything,” he muttered, “we didn't know anythin' either, that hag couldnae see you, only that you'd went after Arthur on your own – an' don't think I'm no' angry about that,” he added in an off-hand manner. “You're the Queen! You can't just be runnin' off tae fight whatever battle you please!” His anger – and worry – took him over for a moment, and he glared at Merida with a familiar sense of sheer annoyance that only she could cause. They'd been doing this how long now?

“I didn't run off,” Merida shot back, “I was taken by the Dark One. An' don't bother starting on me about that, I've already had my fill from my Mother, I don't need you adding to it!” Her words came out as a snap and the two continued to glare at each other. She sighed, and looked away. “I only had a wee bit of time afore they all left, and I wasn't going to risk any of the clans on this. It was a personal vengeance, no anything to drag good men into.” She was silent for a moment longer. “I didn't think...” she shook her head, looking away. He looked for a moment longer.

“I was worried,” Macintosh said, his voice quiet, his head turned to face away from her. He shouldn't be saying this, but he couldn't stop his mouth. “No' just because you're the Queen, but,” it was then that he stopped, finding the words stuck and his lips dry. Moistening them didn't seem to help any. He heard Merida's soft laugh and he looked over at her. The sun made her hair glow brightly, but her smile seemed brighter still.

“You're a daft gowk,” she said, “but I'm glad you're on my side.”

That was something he could live with.


	2. Feel (Un)Pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DunBroch has opened the Summer Games to other Kingdoms for the first time. Merida is surprised by how she feels when meeting other Princesses and Noble ladies. Why does her simple dress feel too simple now?

DunBroch did not often open their yearly Games to outside visitors, but following the return of Queen Merida from the Land Without Magic, there was to be a big change, namely that the Games became open. All neighbouring kingdoms had been invited, and those who could had accepted the invitations readily. Merida had learned many things from her time in the Other Land, first of which was to trust in other people, because Darkness could not be overcome alone. That being said, it was very likely that Merida did not expect the amount of acceptances she received. It was fortunate that the castle was big enough to accommodate such guests.

The one problem with it all? Seeing all the other princesses and other noble ladies. It wasn't that Merida didn't like meeting all these ladies; she did, really! The problem was... Well, first off it was important to explain that the people of DunBroch were not really the type for the frills and finery that many other kingdoms took as just a normal part of life. It wasn't that people didn't appreciate fine things, they did, they just saw them as something that was nice, but who really needed it? This tended to apply to all areas of their lives, including clothing.

The Queen Mother, Elinor, always looked elegant no matter what she wore. The nobles were able to greet her with ease, but Merida saw the slight double takes that happened whenever she was introduced to them as the Queen of DunBroch. These slight looks only lasted a second or two, a slight widening of the eyes, but she caught every one that was used. She smiled, and said nothing. She held her tongue when she saw these fine ladies glance at her gown – one that she had thought quite lovely, actually – and the mess of curls that refused to let anything be done to them. Once, Merida would have demanded explanations, but she wasn't in a position for that, not for visitors to the land. She bite her tongue, and tried to ignore every look for the rest of the evening, even if they made her eyes prick for some reason she couldn't understand.

That night, when she was finally alone in her own chambers, she produced a small looking glass that her Mother had gifted to her on her 16thbirthday, and stared intently into it. She'd never been vain, never really cared for her looks, but as she stared into the glass, Merida couldn't help but wonder if anyone found her attractive. Was her face a pretty face? She'd heard tale of the romantic writings some of the maids in the castle read, and they always described their leading ladies as having curls that fell elegantly down. She snorted, that could never be said for her hair, and the bright colour... it wasn't the setting of the sun that made a prospective suitor stare.

She let out a noise of frustration, placing the looking glass face down.

“Why am I even bothered?” she muttered to herself, tapping her fingers off the back of the glass. “I'm not _lookin'_ tae be seen as a pretty wee thing, I'm wantin' to be seen as a strong Queen.” Despite reminding herself this, she couldn't stop from looking in the glass again. How did you work out if you were pretty, anyway?

“Merida? Are ye still awake?” Elinor's voice came from her doorway, before entering the room herself. Merida didn't answer her Mother, still looking at her reflection with a frown on her face. Elinor crossed over, and glanced down at the mirror, placing her hand gently on the top of Merida's head. “Darlin', you need to get some sleep, there's a lot on tomorrow wi' the Games starting.”

“Wha-” Merida turned and blinked. “Oh. Aye, I will, Mum, I'm just...”

“Staring into that wee thing like it's keeping something from you,” Elinor filled in. She sat down beside Merida, and looked at her with concern. “I've never seen you glance into that for more than a check to make sure you'd cleaned your face properly. What's wrong, dear?”

“It's nothing, Mum,” Merida insisted, turning away from the glass. “Do you think the Games'll be tae their tastes?” She fretted at the material of her gown. “I mean, they're all so... DunBroch isn't... we're...”

“A little less into all the frills they seem tae find so important?” Elinor finished, understanding what her daughter was really meaning. “Well, if they have problem wi' anythin' here, then they're not worth our time.” She stood, pressing a kiss to Merida's head. “An' if anyone finds you anythin' other than a brilliant Queen, then they are lackin' in judgement, my daughter.” She gave a soft smile. “Stop worrying about other people's tastes, you've nothing lacking in you.”

“Mum, you saw the looks I was getting',” Merida shrugged. “They clearly didnae find me... I'm lackin' somethin'.” She shook her head, pushing some hair back out of her way. “An' I don't know why it bothers me. I just...” She looked away, then to Elinor with a slightly pleading look. “Am I pretty, Mum?”

“Aw, darlin',” Elinor moved forward, hugging Merida close. “Of course you are. You're beautiful, and you're your Father's daughter through and through.” She smiled at her, a hand cupping her cheek. There was a soft sigh from the older woman. “I should have known this would happen. I went through this as well.”

“Mum?” Merida questioned, a frown on her face.

“Every lass ends up wondering about her looks at some point, Merida,” Elinor explained. “Mine... it was just after I was presented for betrothal, an' your Father won.”

“But, Mum,” Merida's voice was confused, “Dad said you just grew more beautiful every day.” It had stuck in Merida's mind, her Father saying that, because it wasn't the usual type of thing Fergus came out with. Then again, it was praise for his wife, and anyone who had seen them together knew just how much Fergus and Elinor meant to each other. Elinor gave a soft laugh, a content smile on her face.

“Aye, he always had a way for making me feel it,” she said. “But it doesn't change the facts that I felt... well, I didnae really have the words for it.” Elinor paused, trying to think. “The first time I remember feeling genuinely pretty – to use your word – was... Ach, you don't want to hear this.”

“No, Mum, tell me,” Merida said. “Maybe it'll help.” Elinor gave another look.

“I don't know if it will, this was very specific to me, but I'll tell you.” There was a look of concern mixed with the familiar smile of a memory that made the person remembering it very happy. “The first time I felt pretty was on my wedding day to your Father. He turned, and saw me for the first time that day and... I don't have the words tae explain what it was, but it made me feel just lovely.” Elinor's smile had grown sadder. “He always made me feel like that.”

Merida got up, wrapping her arms around her Mother. “I miss him, too, Mum. And thank you. Fer tellin' me,” her smile was tight, but genuine. “You're right, it's no exactly goin' tae help my situation but... it's nice. Tae hear how you and Da' always made each other happy.” Elinor's smile grew soft, and she kissed her daughter on the forehead once more.

“Aye, the person you love is always good at doing that,” she told Merida. “Now, lass, you need to sleep. The Games start tomorrow and you know you'll get no rest off the boys until you set the standard at the archery range.” Mother and daughter shared a fond laugh, retiring to their beds with muttered good nights. Merida didn't fall asleep right away, instead wondering what would be her way of finding what made her pretty.

If she even was pretty.

* * *

Her speech to open the Games went well, and it seemed that everyone was enjoying themselves. Like her Mother predicted, the boys hassled her until she went to the archery range and showed everyone how it was done. She received a lot of compliments from many of the visiting nobles – including from some of the more elegant princesses, which surprised her a bit. She had also been accosted by the daughter of one of the clansmen. The bairn delightedly showed off her new dress to the Queen, and presented her with a flower crown. Merida had laughed, and accepted it with grace, before the wee one scampered off to find more amusement.

“That's a right fine crown you've got yourself there, m'lady,” Macintosh's amused voice reached her ears. Merida's lips drew into a comfortable smirk, and she rolled her eyes in his direction.

“Jealous you've not got something so nice to put in your long flowing locks, laddie?” Merida waved the flower crown in front of him. “I'd offer to give it to you, but the lass was insistent that it was to go tae me an' no one else.” Her voice was filled with laughter as she spoke, and it was contagious by the look of the smile on Macintosh's own face.

“Well, you'd better put it on then, my Queen. We wouldnae want ye to be responsible for a wee lass cryin' now.” He plucked the flower crown from her hands and stepped a little closer, placing it on her head with surprising gentleness. Merida found herself frozen for a moment, motionless as he pushed back some of her hair to let the crown sit better. “There,” he said, standing back and looking. She quickly came back to herself.

“Well?” Merida asked. “Dae I suit my new crown?” There was silence as Macintosh just looked at her. Merida frowned a little, which seemed to shake him out of whatever dream he was in.

“Never seen one finer,” Macintosh replied. “Ye look beautiful, Merida.”

Those were words she never expected to hear, not from someone who could be her harshest critic. Merida's mouth twitched, a shy but pleased smile appearing slowly. It was mirrored by Macintosh, and there was a comfortable silence. After a beat, the two glanced away from each other, and that moment was broken.

“I, I should go an' find the boys,” Merida said. “They're meant tae be helpin' out wi' hostin' today,” she explained. Macintosh nodded.

“I was tae meet with Ding and Guff,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction to the one Merida had gestured. He paused. “I'll expect we'll be seeing you at the ceilidh tonight?” Merida gave a nod. “I'll see ye then, then,” Macintosh nodded in return, walking off. Merida watched for a moment, before touching the crown with her fingertips.

Right now, she felt a little bit pretty.


	3. Joy be as Deep as the Snow in the Glen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cothric Macintosh decided when he was naught but a bairn that he was going to marry the Princess.

Cothric Macintosh decided when he was naught but a bairn that he was going to marry the Princess. That fact that Alun Dingwall and Bruce MacGuffin had also made the exact same decision didn't matter to him - he knew he would be the one to marry her, because his Mother said anyone would be lucky to marry him. Every time his Father took him on a visit to the castle, Macintosh would bring some sort of gift for the Princess, and she always smiled when he gave it to her.

Of course, these visits usually ended with them in some childish squabble, but they were children, it was to be expected. She had told him how she was going to be a fierce Queen, one that people would listen to. Macintosh had asked if he would get to ride alongside her. If he was going to be her husband, he should be allowed to. She told him he would.

Yes, his decision to marry the Princess was a good one.

* * *

When the time of the betrothal came along, childhood decisions had long been forgotten. Macintosh hadn't been to DunBroch in years, his Father preferring that he learnt the lands of their clan in and out, so that when the time came he was ready. The betrothal, Macintosh was told, was only to happen if he won in a contest of the Princess' choosing. He would be up against Dingwall and MacGuffin in the contest, because all the clans had to receive a fair shot at her hand.

That was all well and good but... there wasn't much choice in this, was there? He hadn't thought of marrying anyone. He was too young to be tied down in that way, and he still had a lot to do before he could ever consider it. Aye, he'd take part in the contest, and he'd do his best as his Father expected of him, but he wasn't much bothered. So he told everyone.

Mind you, on seeing the Princess? He thought marrying her wouldn't be too bad. And what a shot she was.

The break with tradition was a relief, really. Maybe he could win her heart.

* * *

It's after Merida has become Queen that any talk of marriage comes up again, and this time is between MacGuffin and one of Macintosh's own sister - Morag. She's a shy type, which had always been a bit of a problem but frankly that shyness makes her and Guff fit together perfectly. Their courtship had been a quiet, extended affair, one that really people wouldn't have known as a courtship at first. But Mac had just been waiting to hear the news.

So had Merida. Their Queen holds a celebration feast for the newlyweds, delighted for the pair of them. They all were, the wedding was something all the clans celebrated, and many wishes and hopes were made for the couple to have a long and happy marriage.

"He's a good man, MacGuffin," Merida had said to Macintosh over an ale a few nights before the wedding. "He'll do right by Morag, ye've no need to worry for her." He hadn't realised he has been so obvious. Ding had confirmed it, and Macintosh scowled playfully into his ale.

Aye, MacGuffin was a good sort. His sister would be happy with him. Macintosh raised his tankard the highest during the toasts. He didn't think on the idea of his own marriage, even though some of the clan elders had been muttering about the need for an heir.

He hadn't won the right person's heart, though he'd won a fair few. He was sure his had been taken long ago.

* * *

It wasn't long after Guff's wedding to Morag that they were celebrating Ding's wedding. This one had come out of nowhere, or at least that's how it seemed to Macintosh. Merida wasn't so surprised.

"He's been moonin' o'er her for a while now," she told him over the ale at the celebration of the engagement. "Makin' a right eejit of himself until Morag took him aside an' telt him what he was doin' wrong." So his own sister had known and said nothing to him? Actually, Mac wasn't surprised by that in the slightest - Morag always had been the best for keeping quiet what needed to be kept quiet. If it wasn't her place to say, then she wouldn't. "She's good wi' the advice, Morag."

"Ye gettin' love advice off her yourself?" Macintosh joked, sipping at the ale. When Merida didn't reply right away, he couldn't help but stare. Okay, aye, she was drinking but it was a deliberate sort of drink. The type you take to avoid answering a question. "Yer majesty?" It was a gentle prod, that was all. He couldn't help but be curious about his Queen.

"Just sayin' she's good at the advice, tha's all, Mac." Merida swung herself up, and went over to talk to the couple. She was good at dismissing people without actually saying the words, Macintosh had mused at the time. It was a skill he'd only seen her Mother possess until then.

Ding's wedding was louder than Guff's. It was one of the rare times any of them had seen the lad smile for more than a short time. His bride was his height, and was a lass from one of the small clans that pledged themselves to Dingwall. Aileen was bright, open, and cheerful and seemed to bring out that part of Ding that had been lost as he got older.  
She was a good lass, the right type for Ding.

"Your turn next, Mac!" Merida had slapped him on the shoulder, giving a huge grin. "Wonder what lass will steal you away, eh?"

The answer was easy, to him. At least, he thought so.

* * *

He spent the autumn and the winter at the castle, away from his lands. His people talked among themselves, proud of how their Lord was a special advisor to the Queen. She could trust him about any matter, they said. He was always the first one she turned too, they would tell anyone who listened. He was proving himself and making their clan important. There would always be pride for him.

They wanted him to marry, of course, because it was sad to see the lad alone when his friends had wed - one to his own sister! Morag was expecting, that news had gone around fast, and it was taken for granted the Queen would celebrate the birth. She was a kind soul like that. She'd find love an' all, one day. Probably with some foreign Prince, someone who was kind-hearted and saw the beauty in their Queen that they all knew was there.

The people of Dun Broch didn't indulge in flights of fancy much, but they adored their Queen, and they wanted the best for her. Let her heart be won by someone worthy. Let her love be returned fiercely. Let her be happy, most of all.

It was all they could ask for

* * *

Spring came. A crown of silver was switched for a crown of white roses. The Queen's usual gowns were swapped for one of ivory in colour, simple but beautiful. The best tartan was worn, and the best ale was on tap. Her heart had been won, and by someone who loved her more than they would ever know.

The Queen and Macintosh were wed on a day of sunlight, songs, and merriment. It didn't matter to them if the wedding was large or small, quiet or loud.

It was theirs.

He had been right: he did marry the Princess. Except now she was a Queen. _His_ Queen.

He would follow her wherever she wanted.


	4. Mood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Macintosh was in a foul mood. " A new suitor appears at the castle with hopes of wooing Merida. This makes Macintosh annoyed - for some odd reason that he doesn't understand.

Macintosh was in a foul mood.

True, it wasn't quite so unusual for the young Lord to be in a foul mood – like his Father, he was quick to anger – but this particular mood came from a very pointed source. A person, to be exact. Well, persons would be more correct, but it was one person in particular that had started it all. His name was Tedros, and he was a Prince from another kingdom who had come to Dun Broch with the express intention of wooing and winning Queen Merida's hand in marriage.

It wasn't that he couldn't see _why_ Prince Tedros had come wooing, Merida – enough though she was a right royal pain in the arse – was probably the most beautiful women Macintosh had ever seen. He'd said as much to MacGuffin and Dingwall. They had shared odd looks when he mentioned it though.

“An' since when d'ye think that about our Queen, Mac?” Dingwall had asked, lifting his tankard to take a drink of ale. MacGuffin smirked and Macintosh had just rolled his eyes at the pair. “Well, we're just sayin', wasn't that long ago you thought she was some sort of wild thing, sent tae curse you.”

“Aye, well... I was bein' an arse, wasn't I?” Macintosh had replied, and not gone any further on the topic. The lads did agree with him, despite their teasing. It was a fact all of Dun Broch knew to be true: Queen Merida was a rare sort of beauty, and any one would be greatly honoured if they happened to be the one to touch her heart. It was hard to wonder at what sort of person it would be, but if Merida had fallen for them, they would likely be an impressive sort.

Logically, Macintosh knew all of this, but it didn't change the fact that the idea of Prince Tedros wooing Merida made him angry? No, was frustrated better? It was an odd sort of unpleasant mood, whatever the actual mood was. He didn't like the idea of this Tedros – Prince or not – wooing Merida. From what he'd seen of the guy, Macintosh had felt as though she could do so much better. Sure, Tedros was tall, blond, objectively handsome, and seemed to be smart enough to hold decent conversations, but he was a man of _fashion_.

He had arrived to the castle in a large carriage covered with gold, pulled by four white horses. His servant – the Prince had at least 10 with him – wore the finest livery imaginable, and that was nothing to the satins and finely crafted fabrics of the Prince's outfit. He was clad in blue and silver, and in the earth tones of Dun Broch, he gleamed. Macintosh had found it _hilarious._ That had to be the reason he was finding issue with the man wooing Merida, he was so unsuited for Dun Broch that it was something to laugh at. Even Queen Elinor had been spotted cracking a smile at just how ridiculous Prince Tedros looked. Yes, that had to be the reason.

* * *

“I say, Lord Macintosh, isn't it?” Prince Tedros greeted Macintosh as he arrived back at the castle later that day. “Good to see you, I've been meaning to have a word or two with you, if you have the time?” Tedros continued on, without waiting on Macintosh to return the greeting. For his part, Mac simply raised his eyebrow, gesturing for the Prince to continue on with whatever it was that he wanted to say. “Good, good. You see, myself and your Queen, well, we've been getting rather _close_ lately.” He paused, and glanced up at Macintosh, who had not reacted.

“Well, yes, we've been getting rather close, and I'm quite a bit hopeful that she would respond favourably to any addresses I would make towards her,” there was a pause, as the Prince rubbed his knuckles in a smug gesture on the front of his heavily embroidered coat. “The thing is, Macintosh, old chap, I rather need you to stay out of the way.” Macintosh frowned deeply.

“My place is here, to help my Queen,” he said slowly. “Only she has the authority tae send me anywhere, no' some Prince frae another Kingdom.” There was a very pointed look when he finished speaking, one that seemed to fly right over Prince Tedros' head.

“I understand that, but,” Tedros sighed, as if this was causing him great pain, “you do have such a way of influencing _my_ dear Merida, and I'd rather you stopped it.” There was silence, as Macintosh tried to understand what had been said. _He_ could influence the Queen? _Him_?

“Yer talkin' out of yer arse,” he said, crossing his arms. “The Queen only goes wi' what she thinks, an' the hell wi' the rest of us.” An unconscious fond smile appeared on his face as he spoke. “She's ne'er been one for listenin' unless there's somethin' in it for her,” he shrugged. “Just the way she is.” Tedros' eyes had narrowed as Macintosh had been speaking, seeing the smile on the young Lord's face and coming to a conclusion that he did not like at all.

“That's the face she shows you,” Tedros' voice had taken on a rather haughty tone, “but around me, someone she cares for, I can assure you that little warrior act is just that. An act.” A scoffing noise came from the back of his throat as he looked around himself. “Gods only knows what she's had to suffer around the animals that pass as people here. She'll do much better in my Kingdom, where she can be appreciated as the jewel that she is.”

“She won't leave Dun Broch.”

“She'll be my _wife_ ,” Tedros shot back, an edge appearing in his own smile that had Macintosh's hand curling into a fist, “she'll have to do as I tell her.” Another soft laughing noise, and Macintosh had had enough. He grabbed the fancy coat, hauling the Prince up with one hand, the other pulled back with a fist ready to strike.

“Listen, ye arse, Merida...”

“C'n fight her own battles, thank ye very much. Put him _down_ , Mac,” Merida's voice cut in before anything could actually happen. There was a fierce look in her eye, arms crossed over her chest. Macintosh dropped Prince Tedros, who began to hurriedly brush himself off, rearranging his clothing as though great damage had come to it.

“My dear,” Tedros began, “thank goodness you came when you did. This brute was ready to...”

“I know what he was ready to do,” Merida said, “an' it's only due to the fact that yer no' worth it that I'm no' doing it myself.” Tedros' mouth opened and closed. “I thought about it, an' you know what? You're no' the type of person I could see myself wi'. I have a thing against arrogant numpties who think they're better than my people.”

“But I...”

“Don't care. I want you an' yours out before the sun sets. Otherwise I let Macintosh do what he was going to.” Merida turned away, stepping back in the direction she had come. “Mac, yer almost late for the meetin' so come on,” she added without looking over her shoulder. Macintosh almost turned to look at the easily disgraced Prince, who was spluttering beside him, but thought against it, walking fast to catch up with his Queen.

“We've no' got a meeting today,” he said, falling into step beside her. Merida gave a small shrug in response. They continued to walk along the halls, in a comfortable silence. “He wanted me to not hang around,” Macintosh said eventually. “Said I had a way of influencing you,” he laughed. Merida glanced over at him, smile on her face.

“Aye, if you mean by bein' a pest, then he's right,” she laughed. “Hope you told him where to go.”

“Aye.”

“Good,” she nodded. “Not havin' you disappearin' on me, Macintosh,” there was a pause, as they stopped. Merida stood in front of him and tilted her head, looking up with an expression on her face that stood somewhere between being puzzled, and not minding. “I'm a little too fond of havin' you around.” And she leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking away.

Macintosh couldn't stop looking at her as she did so.

… Well, this could complicate things.

Or make them easier.


	5. Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't that Merida didn't like meeting the other Princesses, that much she wanted to be clear. [Bit more Disney based than previous ones]

It wasn't that Merida didn't like meeting the other Princesses, that much she wanted to be clear. She got on with most of them, and Mulan was likely her best friend. It was just that... Well, it was a little hard to explain because, at first, she was almost convinced she was just being overly paranoid and too self conscious. After all, none of the other lassies had a bad word to say about her, so why should Merida have anything bad to say about her? The truth was though, Merida and Ariel seemed to be... They didn't get on. Merida thought.

See, it was so hard to say because on the surface, Ariel had never really been hurtful. Very blunt about Merida's own single nature - Elsa's didn't count because she was a Queen - and her step away from the traditionally pretty looks of the Princesses. Merida had known she was a little different than the others, and it didn't help that little bit of worry in her mind to have it so bluntly pointed out. Belle often jumped in when Ariel went on that little comment juncture, bringing out books to prove the different ideals of beauty throughout history and stating that to hold one up as the ideal threatens to demean all.

Belle was _smart_.

(When Ariel pointed the unconventional looks out, they all had their own reactions. Snow, the innocent thing, just commented that she found Merida lovely. Cinderella said that personality was far more important, a point Aurora agreed on and Jasmine pointed out that in her culture, the rest of the girls were not attractive at all. Pocahontas believed all women were beautiful, Mulan had her own self-esteem issues, so often did not comment but there was a a similarity of thought between the two that was comforting. Rapunzel just showed off the amazing portraits she did, pointing out how Merida made for a fascinating subject. Anna flustered, and Elsa shrugged. Those two ran too close to diplomacy to say anything either way. Tiana just gave a look and Merida would nod. Tiana was good at saying a lot with just looks.)

Merida had been sure - at first - it was just Ariel being strangely blunt, though she wasn't sure the why of it. Mulan commented it might to be do with Ariel having been unique in being the only red-head in the group, before Merida joined and there could be unintentional spite at losing that trophy. The older Princesses assured her that Ariel meant no harm, which the newer, slightly more cynical ones - so just Mulan, Tiana and Elsa - expressed their doubts. Merida decided it didn't bother her. She wasn't pretty, not like the others, that was fine. Her role wasn't to be pretty, it was to be brave, adventurous and do things the others wouldn't. Not being pretty was okay by her.

The comments about her being single didn't matter at all, not until it was time for the balls. They were every few months, basically any excuse someone could have for a ball, they would have one. And at every one, Merida had been left sitting on the sidelines, because no one would dance with her. And that was fine! Really, it was. But Ariel's comments...

"Alone _again_ , Merida? Sometimes being brave really is the most important thing about you, isn't it?"

"I'm sure _someone_ will be interested, Merida. There has to be someone out there who could like you."

"Maybe if you tried to look a little... nicer for the balls? Prettier dress and ... try to do something with your hair?"

"I've heard Mulan's friend, Ling, is very funny. I know he's not a Prince, but beggars can't be choosers when looking for the right partner!"

"Another ball with no partner, Merida? Maybe you should skip the next one? Isn't it a little, well, embarrassing to be a wallflower all night?"

"Merida, are you _sure_ you want to come? Pity dances aren't exactly the nicest things, you know..."

Sometimes, just sometimes, the comments were a bit much

* * *

  
The next ball was the Mid-Summer festival. It took place on a gloriously beautiful evening, and all who attended were dressed in their finest. For Ariel, this was a gown of the most sumptuous silks with lace trimmings, delicate jewels simmering about her person as her beautifully brilliant red hair flowed like the sea down her back. The gold livery on Eric's uniform had been recently replace and it shone as though it were brand new. On the top of her head, Ariel's crown perched dainty, and her every step was carefully taken so as not to upset it. All in all, she was stunning, and happily so.

She and Eric had lead the opening dance of the ball, and so set the next two out. Ariel, still fascinated by people, carefully watched the crowds, her fingers carefully running along the silks of her gown and delighting in how soft they felt against her skin. It was a marvel, really, that something could be so soft, and feel so beautiful. Honestly, it was amazing, and she couldn't understand why everyone didn't take the opportunity to buy as many fine things as they could, just to have this wonder.

Of course, it was then that she spotted Merida walking in. By herself, as usual, in a plain green gown, that looked to be a slightly more expensive fabric than her day to day gowns, and was certainly a lot cleaner. Ariel, sighed, and turned to whoever was nearest her.

"You know," she said, "I think it's such a pity that some people just can't seem to find themselves looking nice in very fine things," there was a small glance towards Merida. "Poor thing is always in the same simple gowns. But if she wore finery, the fact she isn't like the rest of us, it would make her a target." Her voice was filled with concern, and the lady in waiting next to her nodded her agreement.

Ariel gave another small sigh as she saw how out of control Merida's hair remained. Even when the girl tried, those curls refused to be tamed and let her hair be anything manageable. She watched as Merida looked around, seeing all the dancing partners and then turning to the familiar corner she spent all balls in.

"The poor thing," she said out loud. "She's always going to be a wallflower, she doesn't have the same ... She's just not _like_ the rest of us," it was said so sadly that those around Ariel couldn't help but give their agreement. It must be so hard for Merida, being so different. She was so wild, so fierce, her looks were just... She must be so intimidating to anyone who maybe even thought of possibly asking her to dance. But then someone _did_. From what Ariel could see, Merida looked surprised - of course she did, no one ever bothered to ask her - and accepted, a wide laughing grin on her face that somehow just further showed the differences in her facial structure compared to the rest of the girls.

The number was a very high paced one, with a lot of whirling and jumping around. Really, if anyone was going to ask Merida to dance, Ariel could appreciate that they chose the perfect one to do it for. Ariel could barely make out Merida's face as she and her partner hurled around the dance floor, setting a pace that very few seemed able to keep up with. It was quite amazing to watch, though Ariel wondered if such a display of boundless energy would harm Merida's chances for dancing again. After all, most of the dances at these balls were rather... calm, not something that Merida was known for, bless her. Her partner did seem more than capable of keeping up with the girl though, so that was nice of him. Ariel couldn't help but wonder who it was.

As the dance came to a close, she thought she would have her chance. She stepped forward, determined to talk to the pair. She saw them exchanging words, and Merida grinning more. Before she had reached them, the man had turned away. She did make out tartan, however, so clearly the person was from Merida's own kingdom. One of her people trying to be nice to their Queen for the evening? That had to be the reason. It was lovely that they were being so nice, but there was heartache in nice, and Merida didn't realize that.

"I've never seen you dance before," Ariel smiled at Merida, "you've probably tired your poor partner out, with all the energy you put into it!" Merida gave a deep laugh, her shoulders shaking at the movement. Ariel wondered why everything Merida did seem so big and loud - did she ever have any quiet moments?

"Nah, he'll be fine," Merida's grin was confident and Ariel admired that. It was good to put on a brave face, even when in a situation that was out of a person's scope of understanding. Especially then, actually. "I'll introduce ye t' him later on, gonnae get a wee drink the now." Merida went off to find a refreshment. Ariel's smile fell a little.

She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to be introduced to one of Merida's subjects. While the girl, herself, was lovely, it was hard enough for Ariel to understand her through that thick accent. And, well, she had met Merida's father. It seemed like her kingdom had a reputation for rather terrifying looking males. She would need Eric at her side to meet this partner. Yes, that's exactly what she would do, she would get Eric!

Turning quickly, she bumped into someone who was walking forward, holding a drink in their hands. The drink spilled, though fortunately not on her gown of finest silk. Water-based stains were very hard on such a lovely material, and she was loathe to ruin something so new. She gave a very polite gasp, and looked up at the person she had bumped into.

He was the very definition of what was considered attractive, though of course no one was more attractive to her than her darling, Eric. That did not mean she could not appreciate the attractive nature of other people, and this man certainly came under that category. His eyes were a stormy kind of blue, which fit well with the stubble on his face. Wild brown locks that framed the face nice made for a picture that was hard to look away from. Very hard indeed.

"I'm so sorry," she said, hand fluttering to her mouth to show her shock. "I didn't mean to upset you or your drink."

"Didnae worry about it," the man gave a shrug. "S'just a wee drink, no like anyone's hurt," he finished, moving off. Ariel eyed him for a moment or two. She hadn't seen him before, perhaps he was a new upcoming Prince who had been allowed to visit the Ball prior to his Princess's true introduction to the club. That had to be it, it was the only way he could be so very handsome.

Seeing Eric's smiling face before her, as he took her hand and lead in her into a sweeping, rather romantic dance made her add: Well, at least, perhaps second only to her dear Eric. Dancing with Eric was always the most amazing feeling. It was as though every step was proclaiming their love for each other, and as he held her up to spin her around, she felt as though no one in any world could share her luck.

She spotted them in the corner of her eye though, Merida and her dance partner. They weren't following the beat of the music - Merida wouldn't know too, would she, the poor thing - and they were very close. Perhaps a little too close for people who had just chosen to dance together, in Ariel's opinion. Actually, she would make that very too close, as there was hardly any space between them.

When they starting kissing, she couldn't help the gasp. Even Eric turned to look and... That was not the sort of kiss you gave someone in a public place, especially not if they were someone you had only met earlier that evening! She felt quite dizzy just looking at it, luckily Eric was there with his strong arms.

After that dance was done, Merida came over in her direction, tugging her dance partner along, their fingers intertwined. Ariel stared. This was the man from earlier. The very handsome one that she was so sure had to be an upcoming Prince. Merida wouldn't do anything that would mean the unhappiness of someone else, surely?

"Ariel, have ye met Mac? Right arse, so he is, but he's decent wi' it."

"Grand praise, yer Majesty," 'Mac' laughed, wrapping an arm around Merida's waist. Ariel was shocked at such blantant displays. "We bumped intae each other earlier. An' while it'd be nice tae chat," this he directed at Ariel, "I promise ye a night ye'd remember." He bent his head slightly, kissing at Merida's neck as well as, Ariel's eyes widened on seeing it, nibbling a little. Surely Merida would protest!

She did, but not in the way Ariel thought.

"Gerroff, we're in company." Merida didn't sound like she was bothered if he stopped or not and she turned back to Ariel. "He's right though. Promised me a right good night." A cheeky grin appeared, with a hint of something that Ariel had no way to described. "I'm going to hold him tae it, an' all." With that, the Scottish pair left.

"I ... didn't know Merida was seeing someone," Eric said. "Did you, dear?"

"No," said Ariel. "She's always been so... different."


	6. Feasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gender bend! Coira Macintosh and King Muir of Dun Broch have an interesting way of interacting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gender-bend was inspired by finding [this picture](https://mabymin.deviantart.com/art/Meraud-429976341). Time was spent researching to find names that would fit each character for the AU and... yeah, hence why Merida = Muir. Hope you like!

Muir of Dun Broch was everything a King should be, according to those who were apparently informed on the matter. He listened to his people, he was passionate about his land and, according to some, he was right handsome, which a King should really be. It helped that he grew into his long limbs, becoming solid muscle and wild red hair, with a strong jawline that was similar to his Father.

Indeed, King Muir's Council would argue that his only fault was in not having taken a wife to ensure the future of his line. The females of Dun Broch who looked to Muir with an appreciative eye would think that wasn't a fault at all. After all, it gave them all a change to catch him.

Not that he ever noticed. Muir was always too busy to be bothered about lassies flinging themselves at him. He didn't chase skirts – arguably out of respect to his Mother and sisters – but on the rare occasion he did go looking, he never found himself wanting for company. It didn't matter much though, Muir did as he pleased and because he was King, no one could really say a damn thing against him.

Apart from his Mum, but frankly everyone feared the wrath of Queen Elinor.

Coira Macintosh, eldest daughter of Lord Macintosh, was one of the renowned beauties in the clans. It was an amazement to all, really, that she hadn't wed as soon as she was of age. They all knew that Lord Macintosh had made it clear to Fergus and Elinor – later Muir himself – that if Muir wanted to wed one of his daughters, for he had two and three sons, then consent was happily given. Mind you, the Lords Dingwall and MacGuffin had also said the exact same thing. The daughters of the Lords nearest in age to Muir – Coira, Allina, and Blair – were all great friends in that way – it was said – only females could achieve.

It wasn't really a surprise that people began to speculate that King Muir didn't chose between the lassies so as not to upset the friendship. Female friendship, after all, could be a fickle thing, at least in the eyes of the men of the clans. The women of the clans tended to just give looks at this comment, but nothing was said.

There had been a brief moment, following King Muir's coronation and discovery of the knight who killed Fergus, that he would make the soldier Mulan into his Queen. Their friendship had always been expectationally close, and it would have made some sort of sense. Of course, Muir and Mulan and both laughed at the idea, and the soldier left with the Lady Ruby and the King's promise they would always be welcome in Dun Broch. After that, well the King was distracted with bringing about justice for his Father's murder, and bringing the False King Arthur down.

He had no time to be courting.

* * *

It seemed, following Muir's return from the Other Land with news of victory over Arthur, there was always feasting at Castle Dun Broch. Every one in the land wanted the chance to be able to hear King Muir himself tell of the battle between him and the False King, of how Hades intervened but stepped out again at their own King's threats. Rumours of the Princess Snow White and her Prince being there but doing nothing to bring Arthur to justice did nothing to improve the general feeling in Dun Broch to Misthaven, though they'd been long convinced the place was run by a bunch of eejits anyway.

The ale and talk flow long into the night. Queen Elinor and her daughters had long since retired to their own chambers when Coira begins to make her own move. She mutters her intentions to her Father, who gives a grunt of acknowledgement, sending up a cheer at the beginning of another round of the favoured Mor'du drinking song. She barely rolls her eyes, nudging at her younger sister who shakes her head, insisting that she wanted to stay with their Father.

Coira's not daft, far from it, and she can see exactly where her sister's eyes have been leading to all night. Their King is too handsome for his own good, and he leads the clans in song with a surprisingly clear voice despite the amount of ale consumed. He catches her eye, coming over, and Coira gives a curtsey in his direction.

“That you turnin' in fer the night then?” Muir's voice seems to rumble in his chest and Coira nods.

“Aye, my King.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I've no' the head to continue wi' the drinking,” she smiles but Muir snorts. They both know that's a load, it's just that her Father doesn't like to see his daughters linger too late with the men. Muir looks round, and empties his tankard in one go, slamming it on the table.

“Right,” he shrugs. “I'll see ye there then. Turnin' in myself.” These words are spoken louder, drawing yells from the assembled clansmen. “There's ale enough fer the rest of ye!” Muir calls back, louder, “but I've got ta be meetin' the delegation from Arendelle in the morn!” There are still grumbles, but this is accepted.

Coira looks at him as he gives a vague gesture to the doors of the Hall. “After ye then, m'Lady.”

“My King,” Coira replied in the only way she could, turning to lead them both from the hall. Her chambers while in the Castle are a floor and a wing away from the hall, and the silence that comes once they're nearing the stairs to lead up eases the headache she felt coming on. She breathes easier out of the hall, and turns to her silent King. “Ye know my sister's tryin' to catch yer eye?”

“Couldnae miss it if I tried, Cor,” the endearence of old falls from his lips, which are upturned in a small smirk. “No' harm to the lass, but she's no' exactly learnt anythin' about being subtle, has she?” Coira couldn't help that laugh that came from his words – subtly is something that Muir seems to ignore altogether. “Nah, I mean it. Dinnae want ta be alone wi' her in case she finds a way to make it seem like I've compromised her.” He laughs himself.

They bear her chambers, and Coira turns, lingering between Muir and the door. “Aye, but I'm sure none would speak against their great King,” she shrugs. “I'll ha' a word wi' her though. Gods know Father'll find a way ta blame me for her behaviour.”

“He is a bit more of an arse than I remember,” Muir agrees, scratching at his upper arm without thought. She can't really help but glance at those arms, making another note in her mind of how well Muir has turned out. Shaking her head, Coira gave another shrug.

“I should be wed by now,” is the only explanation offered. “I'm keepin' her back an' she resents it.” There's a silence as Muir takes this in, nodding slightly. Coira coughs, and smooths her skirts out of habit. “Thank ye for seeing me back to my rooms, my King.” The words are refined, expected, as is the small drop she gives to punctuate them. “I hope ye sleep well.”

“An' the same to you, m'Lady,” Muir inclines his head. There's a silence for a moment, and the pair smile at each other. Coira opens her door to enter her chambers and, giving it just a few moments, Muir follows, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

She's not sure of the time, but her limbs are heavy with exertion, and her rest rests on Muir's chest, playing with the strands of hair that lay there. She watches as his chest rises and falls, moving to trace her fingers lightly through the hairs there. A warm arm is wrapped around her waist, and a fond kiss dropped on her forehead.

“Ye sure ye don't want them knowin'?” Muir's voice is softer when it's just them lying like this, in the after glow of their love making. It's been going on for only a few months now, and she can count each night they managed to spend some time together on both hands.

“You don't understand,” Coira tries to look up without moving from her comfortable position. “There's... Yer the King, Muir,” her voice is a little strained, and his grip tightens. “I may be the daughter of one of yer Lords, but... that doesnae mean I'm untouchable.” She shifts away from him in the bed, gathering a sheet around her to hide her body from him. Muir frowns.

“An' why would anyone say anythin'?” His voice is harsh, demanding, and a shiver runs through her at the power lying there.

“Because I'm... just a lass who keeps beddin' the King.” Fully covered with the sheet, she turns to look at him, eyes fighting back some tears. “An' if that ever gets out, it's no' only me that'll be ruined.” And with that she stands from the bed, going over to the wee table that has a basin and wash jug. A mirror hangs above it, allowing the person to see what they're doing. Coira pours the water into the basin to begin cleaning herself.

Muir noticed that she always did that after they'd been together. She never let him mark her, wouldn't let him lie too long, and would wash as quick as she could. Anything to hide what they'd been doing together.

“I can't risk anyone knowin',” she says, holding the sheet at a clever angle so that she could clean herself without him seeing. “You... you c'n do what ye like,” she shakes her head. “I can't.” There's a moment of silence, and a heavy sigh comes from her. “I need to stay away, Muir, we cannae... This has to be the last time.”

Angered, Muir rises from the bed, moving so that he stands behind her, an arm wrapping possessively around her waist once more. He pulls her back to lean against him, kissing the juncture where neck meets shoulder. “Those buggers c'n all swing,” he promises, his voice rumbling against her back. “If I thought ye'd have me, I'd make it known the only person going tae be my Queen is you.”

Coira stiffens in his grip. “Don't say things like tha'.”

“It's true.” His voice is serious, and he meets her gaze in the mirror. “If ye wouldn't have me as yer wedded husband, Coira, then I'll take no other Queen.” Coira stares at the reflection, the seriousness in those eyes which had always been playful, even when he was doing things that made her blush to her toes to remember.

He kisses at her neck, her shoulder, moving the sheet down her arm. “Dinnae want anyone else. Hate that they're makin' me meet other Princesses.” He sucks harshly at the back of her neck, a point always covered by hair or a gown. She can't help but lean back further into him, feeling the stirrings of his arosual again. One of his hands slips under the sheet, panning down her stomach to the mound of flesh between her legs. “I want them to know I'm yours, Coira.” Muirs swallows, and the anger is gone. “Will ye be mine?”

His fingers are strong, thick and skilled. Someone could claim that those skills are what make her sag back, leaning on his shoulder as her heart thumps loudly in her chest. They're wrong.

“...Aye.”


End file.
